Forgiveness
by Navypink
Summary: He's done horrible things. And now he's paid the price. But maybe, just maybe... there is hope for him. Maybe even the worst crime can be forgiven. Rated T for murder, slight gore, and dark themes.
1. Salvaged

**Author's notes:** So this is my first Five Nights at Freddy's story and I realize that many people may not like the concept of it. Also, english is not my first language, so, for both of these reasons, plese don't hate.

He opened his eyes. No, these were not his eyes. He had no idea what he was, but he wasn't who he used to be.

He was in a small, dark room. He couldn't see much. He tried to recall the last thing he remembered. He couldn't focus on anything, his mind wasn't working properly, neither. But eventually, he remembered. He'd died inside a springlock suit.

But... why wasn't he dead? Maybe he was dead, just not the way he would expect. He looked down, almost managing to ignore the amount of pain it cost him. He couldn't make out the details, but he was stil inside the animatronic. Or maybe he was the animatronic..?

He heard a loud noise coming from his left. His robotic head snapped towards the sound, automatically locating its source, with a force that could snap his neck. That is, if he was still alive. It didn't even hurt as much as he thought it would. Strange. He'd done it to so many people, and until now, he had no idea how it felt. The same could actually be said of dying, so maybe it wasn't so surprising after all. He was still unsure if he was actually dead.

The noise was getting louder and soon, a dim light filled the room. The animatronic's eyes he was seeing through at the moment quickly adjusted to the new light source.

He saw three people about to enter the room, standing about four meters away from him – two men and a woman. One of the men had a flashlight, and was now looking around the room. They hadn't noticed him yet.

"This is it" the man with the flashlight said. He seemed older than the rest. "The 'safe room'"

The woman seemed to finally notice him.

"Hey, what's that in the corner?" she asked, pointing towards him. The older man, most likely a former employee, pointed the light at him. They could now see him clearly. The woman gasped, and the older man looked at him closely. Perhaps he recognised the suit.

"What – is this?" the young man spoke up for the first time. He was looking at him with a mixture of shock and excitement.

"I remember this one. It was out of order when I worked here. That's Spring Bonnie, version 2 judging by the color" he was right. So he worked in this place when Spring Bonnie was already hidden in the safe room. Interesting...

Spring Bonnie version 2.0.. bought by the company right after... the first incident in 1983. The one that started everything.

The young man and woman came closer and started examining the suit. He couldn't resist. He blinked and looked right at them. The woman had red hair and dark eyes, and seemed around twenty years old. The man next to her had dark hair, his eyes were a mixture of green and brown. He was most likely the same age as the girl. He took a step back, startled by his sudden movement, but quickly came back to him. He was too tired to do anything in particular, especially if every move cost him so much pain, so he simply closer his eyes and waited.

"Is it working?" he recognized the young man's voice. He seemed very enthusiastic.

"It appears to be. I've never seen in active before, though, and I may be wrong" was the former employee's response. "It-it was always locked here, I'm not sure why"

But he knew the reason Spirng Bonnie was kept hidden and locked in the safe room for so long. It wasn't safe. Fredbear's Family Diner had learned their lesson. They wanted no more accidents that would harm their reputation even further. In the end, they still had to sell the whole place to Fazbear Entertainment, who didn't want the people to know they were still keeping the old, dangerous robots.

"Can we just... take it like that?" the women finally spoke up. Where were they going to take him? They didn't seem like part of the company. Well, it didn't matter to him anyway. He was as good as dead... Quite literally. "I mean... isn't that technically stealing?"

"This place has been abandoned for thirty years now. Nobody owns it anymore" the older man said.

 _Thirty... years?_ Was he dead for so long? This suit must'd been a wreck by now. And he didn't expect much to remain of his actual body. If he was dead for thirty years, why did he come back to life now? This room was sealed until now, so it made more sense for him to wake up now, rather than sometime earlier, when there was only darkness and silence to drive him insane. He wouldn't want to loose what little sanity he had left.

Now that he was alive again (concious, at least), he had to use it well. He was always making plans. If he wasn't, he would last a day after his first victim was killed. It was only due to his intelligence and strategic thinking that he survived whole ten years while constantly running away from the police. From everyone and everything. And he did well. But... what was left for him now? He was surely considered dead by now for a long time, so there was nothing he had to worry about anymore. For the first time in his whole life, he had no idea what to do. He lost a goal.

He opened his left eye to see what the people next to him were doing. This time, the man holdin the flashlight jumped.

"What's the matter?" the woman asked him. She seemed slightly concerned. The older man aimed the light at him again.

"This..." he said. "It's... weird. It's not like the others, I know how they work, and this... What I'm trying to say is... it's not normal. Something is wrong with it."

He was wondering if they would be smart enough to realize what was 'wrong' with the robot. He was curious about their reaction if they did. Would they be afraid? Would they want... to kill him?

"It's supposed to be weird!" the young man wasn't bothered by the former employee's warning at all, and seemed surprisingly anthusiastic about the whole situation. "I have to tell the night guard about about it! They'll love it!"

he rushed out of the room. The woman exchanged a look with the other man.

"I better go with him. Do you mind staying here alone?" she asked as she was about to leave the room. Theman shook his head. He'd clearly seen the worst of this company, if staying alone in a small, dakr room with a possibly dangerous animatronic rabbit wasn't scaring him at all.

She left, and the man was looking around the room, seemingly avoiding eye contact. He had to know. And if he had nothing to loose, he wasn't afraid to act. Even if it meant revealing himself to this one person.

"You" he said when the man was looking the other way. His voice didn't sound human at all. He was barely capable of talking at all, which, looking at his condition, wasn't really surprising. But if he talked slowly, it would be possible to make out most of what he was saying.

The man turned towards him in terror. He looked at the animatronic, probably thinking that his mind was playing tricks on him. He stepped closer, and bent down a bit, looking at him.

He reached out as fast as he could, and cought the man by the edge of his shirt. He was stronger and faster than he ever was.

The man didn't even make a sound when he pulled him closer. Interesting. He wasn't panicing, or calling for hellp. It made everything easier for him. His face was roughly ten centimeters away from his own. He wanted him to look into his eyes. The man was afraid of him. He could see it. The fear in the eyes of his victims when they realized they would soon meet their end... iif he enjoyed anything about killing, it was seeing their fear. He wanted them to be afraid of him. It made him feel like he actually made a difference. Like he mattered in any way. He knew it wasn't true. His contact with his victims was brief, nobody saw him the way he really was and lived to tell. Right before he killed, it was the only time he could truly be himself. Only then, he allowed himself to be honest. When he wasn't murdering, he was pretending. Hiding. Running away. He was the pray. And he liked being the predator.

"You worked here...?" he asked the man, quiet enough to ensure nobody else could hear him. The man was staring at him like he'd seen a ghost. How could this be? An animatronic spoke to him. It recognized him. It was impossible, but he was sure it was real. But he knew he couldn't afford to waste any time, so he answered as soon as he found the strenth to speak.

"1993, nightshift" he spat out as quickly as he could.

He looked closely at the man's face. Of course he'd seen him already. He was the only person in the building the night he died thirty years ago. Coul he had seen him as well? If he saw him enter the establishment at night, he was a witness... and needed to be eliminated. He could finally finish what was started fourty years ago. This one last act of violence would end it all.

But he needed a confirmation. If he was really going to kill this man, he wanted to be sure he was really who he thought him to be.

"Michael Shmidt..?" The man's eyes went wide. It was him He hadn't changed much, he realized.

He remained quiet, waiting for Shmidt's response. He was wondering if he still remembered him. The chances were slim, but this man may had seen something he shouldn't had. And no matter who it was, he didn't trust anyone with his secrets. If he told anyone the truth, how could he be sure they wouldn't betray him? Besides, it wasn't like he ever had anyone he trusted or cared about even before he started hiding. His mother died long before he became a murderer, and so did his sister. His father wasn't even worth mentioning. And he didn't have any friends. To him, everyone was either a stranger, or a target that needed to be eliminated. It made everything easier. Just pretemding he never felt felt remorse. Pretending not to feel the pain.

He looked at the man before him. Did he really deserve to die? He came back here willingly. If he never came back, he would be safe now.

"The Purple Freddy suit..." Michael whispered, finally realizing who he was talking to. So he did remember him.

The night before he'd died, he put on a Purple Freddy suit to lure the animatronics and destroy them. He knew the chlidren he'd killed were somehow still alive inside the mascots. He hoped getting rid of the robots would end his ten years-long torment, and end this whole madness once and for all. _No._ He didn't want to relive that horrible night. He didn't want to remember what it was like to be alive.

He couldn't find the strenth to talk, so he simply nodded in response.

"Dear God..." Michael managed to say. It was a reasonable reaction. "How are you still alive?" he asked him. His gaze wandered around his new face, still avoiding his eyes as much as possible. There was a hint of fear in his voice, almost as if he didn't actually want to know. But curiousity was stronger.

'Alive'. The word itself tortured him every time he heard it. It reminded him of his misery. It reminded him how rage felt. He never let himself be controlled by his emotions – anger, particularly, as it was the one who started all of it. But he wasn't thinking clearly anymore. And he was thirsty for blood.

"I'm not" he said, barely audible. He stood up, pain overtaking his entire body. He kept himself from fallling back down, and, filled with the newly fueled rage, he looked down at the man before him.

He could see his deadly determination. He knew what was going to happen to him soon. He took a step forward, then two, then three, then he stopped about a meter away from the end of the room. He was significantly taller than the man, who looked hopeless and vulnerable compared to him. He pushed him onto the wall behind him, testing his strenth. The old man flew all the way to the wall, and a loud crack could be heard when he hit it. He was dead. The man's limp, lifeless body fell onto the hard ground. Now all he had to do was hide. And wait.

"What..?" he heard the woman's voice from outside of the room. He as quickly, and as quietly as possible, returned to his previous spot and sat back down. Just in time. The woman came inside. It was too dark for her to see the body. The man he'd just killed droped his flash light onto the floor. It was now lying in the middle of the room, still on. The girl picked it up, and looked around the room. It didn't take her long to find the body. She screamed.

"What's going on there, Sara?" the man outside the room asked, and for the first time, he seemed genuinely concerned. He ran inside and froze immidiately when he saw the body. He took the flashlight, and was trying to find anything suspicious in the room. He looked at him briefly, but he was sitting motionless, extacly like he was when they left the room. Now he didn't need to hide at all. He would just pretend to be deactivated for most of the time. The whole situation was amusing for him. They were searching for the killer, but they had no idea he was in the room with them this whole time.

"What happened? Did you see anything?" the man asked the woman standing next to him, Sara. She shook her head, still completely shockd by the sight before her.

"I just heard noises, and I came here to check what happened" the man kept looking around the room, but there was nothing there. Clearly, they had no experience with this kind of incidents. If they were smart, they would know that if the murderer was quick enough to enter the room unnoticed, he was long gone already. Or hiding somewhere where they couldn't find him so easily.

"What do we do?" Sara asked the man. She was panicing. He could hardly recall what it's like to be shocked, seeing a dead body.

The man seemed anxious. The two talked for a while, disscussing the different solutions to the situation, and their possible consequences. Finally, Sara spoke up:

"We should call the police" she said.

His instinct was telling him to run away or hide somewhere, but it wasn't a solution right now. He had to remain calm, and pretend he's deactivated.

Another minutes passed after the two called the police. He heard the car first. It was unmistable. His long ears twitched a bit at the sound, but he managed to stay still. The policemen came in, looked around the room and asked the pair some routine questions. When they were done, one of them looked at him suspiciously.

"What is this?" he asked, pointing at him.

The young man was nervous, probably trying to come up with a reasonable answer.

"Well, uhh..." great start. "..we just found it here.." the policeman gave him a weird look, that told him it wasn't enough of an explaination. "It's an old model, it's not even working anymore"

"Are you sure?" the policeman asked him. He crouched down in front of him and took a closer look at his face. He didn't even blink. He was as 'deactivated' as he could be.

"Well, I don't think we can learn much more here" the man said, standing up and turning to leave. "We may contact you for some more information"

"Thank you" Sara said, as the policeman disappeared in the hallway outside.

The man looked at him.

"That thing totally just saved us from a police investigation" he said, almost proudly. If only he knew what really happened... Were they hiding something they didn't want the police to find out? "That would sure be a problem. So much time wasted"

Sara turned to him with a shocked expression.

"How could you say that?!" she exclaimed. "Someone just died here, and you don't even care?"

He shrugged. "It's none of our business". The girl was outraged, but didn't say anything. "Besides, we have a horror attraction to set up" A horror attraction?

The man looked at him again.

"Now we only have to get thins thing outside" as the man said that, he realized how problematic would it be to be dragged all the way outside.

Without much hesitation, he grabbed the man's wrist and stood up. It was difficult for him to move freely, though he was sure that with some practise, he soon wouldn't need any help.

The people wwere staring at him, speechless, for a few long seconds. The way this thing moved... it was way too human.

"Well then.." the man said. He somehow knew that if he talked to it, it would understand him. "Follow us, I guess"

The two people turned to leave the room, and he walked after them. The woman was constantly looking back at him, like she didn't trust him enough to let him walk on his own.

The restaurant hasn't changed much. It was only more dusty, with mice and cobwebs everywhere.

When they stepped outside, he noticed it was winter. The two people in front of him where shivering from the cold, but... he couldn't feel anything. Only his mechanical joints were moving a bit slower due to the cold, it was clear he wouldn't last long in a very low temperature.

Fourtunately, they didn't walk for long. They all soon got inside a small truck. These people seemed prepared for a lot of baggage. Soon, the car moved and he sat down to avoid falling.

He was wondering where they would take him. He recalled them talking about a horror attraction... What was his role going to be? He had so many questions he wanted answered, but couldn't ask. He reassured himself that whatever was going to happen to him, it was going to be okay. The police would never catch him now, so, theoretically, he had nothing to worry about.

Their journey seemed to last at least for about half an hour. He wondered if it was possible for him to temporary shut down. He closed his eyes.

It seemed like he was still mostly human. Spring Bonnie was clearly active, and he was partially aware of his surroundings, but it felt like he was asleep. He could only hear the calming, seemingly distant sound of the car.

 **Author's notes:** This story is based on my personal theories and headcannons that I had before Sister Location's Custom Night came out, and I haven't put it together yet, so I'll just pretend it never happened, as it would change this story so much, it wouldn't be as interesting.

Also, if you know me from the Yandere simulator story I'm currently writing, welcome back! But if this is my first story you read, it's nice to meet you! Hi!

As I said, I know the subject and my opinions on Fnaf may be controversial for some people, but someone might like it, so please don't hate. Thank you.


	2. Monster

**Author's notes:** I thought I'd come back to this story. Enjoy!

The truck stopped.

He got out with the young man and woman and they entered a building he'd never seen before. The horror attraction, it seemed. Above the enterence, a sign read "Fazbear's Fright". Regardless, he gave it the benefit of the doubt.

Inside, the establishment looked like a cheap mockery of the original. He wondered if either of these people'd ever even been to an actual Freddy's – looking around the place, he could bet they hadn't.

"So... what now?" the man looked at Sara, who was still shocked after seeing the corpse of Michael Schmidt. It was a long time ago, but he felt the same way the first time he saw someone die. It was strange to look at someone who saw his murder – he'd never been this close to a witness without killing them.

"How can you just forget about it and move on?! What if we're in danger as well?" fear. Of course, fear was the only natural reaction to what she saw...

"Come on, we need to hurry up and focus on work..." in his now sixty years of life, he'd only seen such ignorance only once. At the very beginning... he couldn't believe people could be so heartless then. And now – was he any better than them? He was everything he hated back then, and it didn't even surprise him after all that happened.

Sara gave him an anxious look before leaving with the man. They began to unload the truck and bring things they salvaged inside. Some of them looked familiar, others he saw for the first time.

Using their momentary abscence as an opprotunity, he sneaked further into the building. It was a maze of tight, dark corridors, the only light source being dim green lamps hidden beetween old animatronic parts. If this was meant to scare people, he doubted it would work. If anything, the dark rooms felt strangely comforting to him. They were similiar to the place of his nightmares, but lacked its terror. And most importantly, he was finally alone. Safe, one could say. He hated being around other people since childhood. Obviously, reasons to do so were handed to him his whole life – long before he became a murderer.

Sitting down on the floor, he leaned back to rest his head against the wall.

Ironically enough, this was as calm as he'd ever been. Before he died, he was running away all the time, afraid of something. And what more could happen to him now? Nobody knew he was even alive at this point – he... escaped from everyone. At last.

So what about the pain coursing through the remains of his body, or the pointlessness of his life now...? He was safe, at least for now. His secret died with him in that old restaurant – he had nothing to hide from, nothing to fear.

And yet...

He couldn't know which was worse – living in fear like he used to, or not living at all. The prospect of possibly spending an eternity here, alone, with nothing to distract him from the apathetic state of his decayed mind, while his robotic body would slowly break down, until he wouldn't be able to move at all seemed just as terrifying as what he used to feel... Maybe even more.

At that moment he wished to fall asleep and never wake up again – it would be the best end for him.

He didn't know for how long he was deactivated until a noise made him alert again. _Footsteps..._ Male, coming from about 15 meters away from him, from somewhere to his... left.

Spring Bonnie's instincts took over and he got up, hoping to find the origin of the sound.

Slowly making his way to the office at the end of the hall, he stopped at a curious sight.

Two eyes glowing in the darkness, staring back at him.

 _His... eyes..._

The silver hue was unmistakable. He stepped closer, and realised he's looking at his own reflection in a mirror. And what a terrifying sight he was now... His eyes were the only thing he knew, standing out from the the decaying, golden animatronic parts. _This_ didn't look like Spring Bonnie he'd died in at all. The thirty years of sleep clearly reflected on the robot's face. His rabbit ears were barely in place – he looked like a nightmare.

A noise from the office urged him to keep going, but the sight of his new face would never fade from his frenzied mind, just like the sight of his first victim's corpse on the ground, slowly bleeding out, or his father. There were images that haunted him his whole life – it would be one of them.

The security guard's office was rather spacious, compared to the rest of the building.

A man, around the age of thirty, was sitting in a chair by a desk looking at security cameras, probably. He hadn't noticed him yet. He wondered if his employer told him he wouldn't be alone...

"Woah, what the-?!" he nearly fell off his chair at the sight of him. If he had a face, is would likely show amusement – in person, his appearence never affected people that way – his horrifying new form certainly had its advantages.

He didn't move an inch and kept watching. Human interaction'd never been this intriguing for him before. What would this man do out of fear...? He was completely paniced.

"Hey, stay back!" the guard yelled at him. His nech twiched suddenly at the sound of his voice. He didn't know what he hated more – being yelled at or being given orders.

He remained in place. The man took out some electronic device and stopped looking at him for a moment.

 _Laughing...?_

 _A child's laughter_ a few rooms away.

What was this? Spring Bonnie reacted immidiately and moved away from the office. His conscious mind grew anxious. What happened...? Was he hearing voices? Or was someone actually in the building?

Nothing. The room the laughter came from was empty.

The guard fooled him... Used his robotic parts against him, manipulated him... He would understand a door being shut to prevent him from getting into the office, but this... playing tricks on him in the dirtiest, most disgusting fashion. If only the guard knew how children's voices affected him... Would he still do it out of cruelty?

He would.

 _People were all selfish and cruel._ They _made him_ cruel. That was why he hated the world and everyone in it. He saw the worst of humanity – and became it.

It there was no good, no justice – everyone fought for their own surviva – why wouldn't he do the same? What he did wasn't any worse than what other people did – to eachother and to him. Yes, he was hiding – but what he did was honest. Why lie to yourself and pretend to be a good person? He wasn't good, and he accepted it a long time ago. He killed for himself, and didn't fear admitting it. Wasn't it better this way?

Slowly making his way back to the office, he wondered why he chose to take the time to reach this room. Was it to give himself some purpose again? Some meaning to his actions? He looked at the man who stood up from his chair and was glaring at him angrily.

 _Kill him_ , a voice in his head told him. Why would he? This wasn't someone worth killing... Someone worth his effort and his pain.

"Get the fuck away from me, you freak!" yelling. Yelling made him aggressive. It always had.

 _Don't let him treat you that way..._

 _KILL HIM._

Before he knew it, his hand was on the man's throat, him looking down at the pathetic creature he was about to murder.

 _A door opening._

What...?

He let go of the guard, who dropped down onto the floor, gasping for air.

He had mere seconds to hide before the owners'd come to the office.

The guard hadn't recovered yet, so he wouldn't see him.

 _The vents_

His instincts all came back to him at that moment. Scattered throughout the establishment, the ventilation shafts seemed like the best hiding places right now. He entered one of them and waited. For a moment, he felt like back then, when he would sometimes hide to let witnesses pass and run away at a more convinient time.

What made him consider killing this man? He wasn't a threat to him, reasonably he had nothing to fear. So why...?

When he was human, he was always capable of taming his emotions – he never killed without a reason. This new form corrupted his mind, clouded his judgement... it was troublesome to give into his desires so easily. He didn't really admit it, but some part of him enjoyed murder – the hunt, the thirst for blood. It wasn't rational, and he hated it.

Being dead for thirty years and the constant pain of being trapped in the animatronic were tearing his mind – he was going mad, he knew it – with every passing second, his thoughts grew more chaotic and out of control.

He was slowly but surely becoming a monster... A fitting punishment for what he'd done, perhaps. The remains of his sanity was all he valued and all that remained of the person he was before his hands were stained with blood for the first time.

He wouldn't let them take it from him, too. They couldn't hurt him the one way they hadn't yet.

 **Author's notes:** This chapter is a bit short, but it's just a warmup - I might upload the next one sometime soon.

See you in the next chapter~

-Navypink


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